


The Curse of the Gods

by Hitomi_Zotz



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Horror, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-25 14:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4963486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitomi_Zotz/pseuds/Hitomi_Zotz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young woman has lived in Cairo as a thief for two years now, no one is quite sure of her origins and she has earned the moniker Jackal courtesy of the jail warden. Overhearing of a quest to the fabled city of the dead Hamunaptra she is determined to go and sneaks aboard the riverboat, discreetly following the Americans, Dr. Chamberlain and Beni. Her motives are unclear and no one is willing to trust a thief and a stoaway, assuming she is only after a share of the gold out there, but it runs much deeper for the thief, Jess. For Jess her salvation lies in Hamunaptra as it holds the key to righting a terrible wrong in her past and helping to undo an unimaginable evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1- A Thief in Cairo

Rick O’Connell was bored, a strange emotion to feel in a hellhole like this and yet he did. He sagged against the wooden bars that frustratingly refused to bend and turned a dull gaze to the left where a new prisoner was being dragged in. Another small, young, scruffy male, maybe somewhere in their twenties, they were becoming a common sight in here although this one didn’t look like a native or a member of the legion.

"In there thief,” one of his guards snarled in Egyptian before pushing him into a waiting cell.

A thief then, no surprise there, Rick wondered what the penalty for that would be, a simple removal of the hands or a hanging like he was due. He gave the cell a brief glance, the boy, whose face was in the shade of a battered hat, was in with a middle aged drunkard who had apparently once been a respectable member of the town. The family name of the drunkard was Salih, and he claimed in moments of rambling that his family had once held great wealth and power, poor irony then that he was guilty of embezzlement and cheating. There was a rumour in town that he did carry some trinket, key or relic on him, the tale varied from tavern to tavern, that it was magical or could lead to the treasure and that he had vowed to be buried with it. O’Connell doubted it immensely but it hardly mattered in here.

The American shut his eyes briefly and bowed his head; it was coming up to high noon and the sun at its worst. There were cells inside in the lovely cool shade but when the warden took a disliking to you, you baked in the afternoon sun in small cells that smelt of faeces and urine, and the warden most definitely had a disliking for Rick. His entire body was burning, he was laced with sweat and he was beginning to feel sick with the heat. This wasn’t a jovial summer to sun in, it was a cruel, scorching torment, people died in this heat every day and he was beginning to wonder if it might kill him before the noose.

As his throat began to hurt as it ached for water his angry thoughts turned to the Englishman who had robbed him of the only thing of value left in his possession. A reminder of that cursed wasteland, now he would never know what it had represented. There was a part of him that never wanted to return to that dead city again and yet there was a bigger part that just had to know its secrets and the truth of the evil and power he had sensed there. His whole army had marched there without needing the command too after all, it was a fable that had turned out to be real, how could he not wonder about its mysteries? He sighed in frustration, now wondering was all he would ever do about the city.

“Hh...hey!”

Rick opened his right eye and turned his head slightly as he heard the hoarse voice of Salih.

“Hey!” the man repeated himself with more conviction.

For a moment Rick wondered if he was hallucinating thanks to sunstroke and he found himself turning in shock, both eyes open now. The gate was open! How in the hell was that possible? His eyes searched for the young thief who had been in there just moments ago. There he was, just about to run in front of Rick’s cell. He waited, had to time this right or the opportunity would be gone forever. His hand snapped out in a desperate grab as the thief made a run for it and he successfully grasped the end of a filthy formerly cream shirt.

“Let go!” a voice protested indignantly, just a little higher pitched than Rick might have expected.

“Get me out of here,” he begged as he tightened his grasp. “I’ll make it worth your while, I swear!” He looked at the boy with a serious conviction in his dark blue eyes.

The boy glanced over his bony shoulder as the guards started crying out and started moving in his direction. “Forget it!” he snapped.

“I know where treasure is, lots of it!” Rick snapped desperately. If it hadn’t been so spontaneous he would have been able to say something a little less dumb and perhaps more convincing but there was no time to think.

Rick let out a curse as a fist punching down on his hand was his answer but he still did not let go. In desperation the thief shoved hard against his bars, pushing Rick’s hand back with the full force of his body. A single curl of golden-brown hair slipped out of the front of the hat then prompting a curious look from Rick as he lost his grasp in the assault.  
“Come back you jackal!” the warden hollered.

The thief bolted off, moving with a surprising agility leaving Salih to be kicked back into the cell and Rick sitting in a frustrated heap as he wondered how the hell a mere boy, and he wondered about that too, could escape with such ease and so quickly too whilst he had managed to rot here for three days without any hint of success in his own many attempts at freedom.

* * *

Cairo, capital of Egypt and its jewel, a tarnished jewel albeit but a jewel nonetheless. Egypt was meant to be independent now and yet you wouldn’t know it to look around this city, it was a cesspit of nationalities, the irritating presence of the British soldiers reminding the natives that their newfound independence was fragile at best, the French Foreign Nationals reminding everyone of war, and of course the Westerners who fancied themselves explorers but were really just grave robbers and thieves in the making.

Jess, also fondly known as Jackal by several wronged people in the town, including some noble visitors, walked across the dusty streets of the capital with ease. Head bowed beneath a pith helmet, hair carefully pinned up under it, shirt collar high at her chin and she looked like just another idiotic would be adventurer. Alright she was a bit short and lean for a heroic adventurer and the pith helmet was definitely too big and kept sloping over her brow and blocking her vision but no one cared enough to notice these points. The other thieves of the city saw that her clothes were dirty and worn and dismissed her as poor and not worth their time, the British men who glimpsed her ignored her as unworthy competition, whilst the Americans leered at her silently as another stupidly dressed Englishman.

She paused slightly and five feet behind her a lanky, black Pharaoh Hound halted too. Again it was something odd about her to notice and yet no one seemed too, dismissing the dog as yet another stray of the city. He was in fact her one loyal companion in the whole rotten capital. Anu, the hound had helped her a year back, biting the hand of a guard who had seized her in a compromising situation in a nobleman’s house. Ever since that fateful day Jess and Anu were, as she liked to think, firm friends.

The sun had set and most respectable people were off the dusty streets, no surprise then that a group of Americans were out walking to a nearby tavern. Jess knew she should ignore them, she had gotten her prize for the day but didn’t their satchels look tempting and Americans were usually such easy marks in this city. Her stomach gave a low growl reminding her of a need to eat and she wondered dully exactly when her last meal had been. She swallowed hard and slipped over to a stall that was starting to close. Surrendering the pith hat in the shadows to the ground of an alleyway where some cats might paw at it, she then moved with ease past the stall. Walking by without once glancing at it, barely noticeable in the long shadows of the clay buildings, it wasn’t hard to snatch up a new hat- small, brown, dented and highly unflattering, it would do the job for now. She slipped it on and entered the busy, rundown tavern with little difficulty.

It was crowded with locals and visitors alike, undoubtedly because it was cheap even if the beer did taste of warm cat pee, the main room was stuffy and the air was sickly sweet with sweat and cheap aftershaves. Jess took up a post against the crumbling left wall, giving her a clear sight of the Americans so she could pick her target and moment with ease. There were four in total, one who had a burning scorn in his dark eyes as he looked about the tavern’s patrons with distain as if it was all beneath him, a blonde who evidently fancied himself a cowboy, and two brunettes, one of whom wore glasses and had a slightly nervous disposition as he seemed to huddle closer to his friends and looked to unsavoury drinkers with unease, whilst the other wore a suit and was easily the best dressed of the four.

“All we want is gold doc,” the blonde said to the affronted, scowling man on his left.

“It’s not so simple,” the man grumbled tiredly in an accent that made it clear he was in fact an Englishman. “Maps are inaccurate, places are booby trapped or have been robbed,” he lamented.

Jess rolled her eyes, greedy treasure hunters, ‘big surprise,’ she thought sardonically. Ignoring the protests of the blonde she made her move, walking up to them softly until she was close enough, then she turned and put her back to them. It was risky but more inconspicuous as she appeared apart from them; nothing looked odder than someone just standing staring at someone else’s back. She had them memorised anyway, blondie down the left side, a deep pocket in his trousers, yep, she felt a small pouch of coins and drew it up painfully slowly. Coins were always a pain to steal since they had a high chance of jingling and giving the game away. She got them out and slipped them into her own back pocket before sidestepping subtly, on to the next victim. She dismissed glasses, his lower jacket pockets were stitched and he had nothing in his back trouser pockets, she could tell that much, so on to the suit. Down into the right jacket pocket, yep, success again. She felt something metallic, a couple of coins, and a chain, some type of jewellery? She would inspect it later. She removed the goods carefully and added them to her other back pocket before turning and stepping back.

It was then that Jess spied the beady eyed Hungarian approaching the Americans with a smirk, looking at them with the same hungry gleam in his eyes that she had.

“My friends,” he addressed them brightly, earning a nonplussed look from the suit, “I heard you discussing an interest we both share.”

“And what’s that?” the cowboy queried frostily.

“Gold,” came the fervent answer.

“Ha,” the Englishman scorned, “let me guess, for a small fee you can guide us to a fortune.”

“Well yes,” the Hungarian retorted as he lost some of his confidence.

“Go back to whatever hovel you crept out of,” the Englishman dismissed him, “we have been offered the same thing by a dozen people like you.”

“Oh?” The man’s dark eyes filled with a nasty glint that Jess recognised all too well, if she was a jackal then this man was a snake. “You’ve been offered a guide to Hamunaptra then?” he queried airily.

Jess let out a small gasp of surprise before she could help it but mercifully it went unnoticed by the Englishman’s own gasp and the blonde’s curse of disbelief. Her golden-brown eyes went wide and she took a step forward without meaning to as her heart started pounding rapidly. Had she heard right? Was it the same place? It had to be! After all this time!

“You lie!” the Englishman accused.

The Hungarian shrugged carelessly with a smug, seemingly innocent grin, he knew he had gained control of the conversation again. “My friend I do not lie about places I have been to.”

“Been to?” the blonde marvelled.

“Who cares?” the dark haired male in the suit snapped impatiently. “What’s one ancient pile of ruins to another? I just want some damn treasure.”

“Hamunaptra isn’t just a pile of ruins Daniels,” the blonde snarled at his companion with an irritated look, “it’s the lost City of the Dead,” he paused to give the Hungarian an unfavourable look, “if it’s even real.”

“I assure you it is real,” the Hungarian retorted confidently, pausing to adjust his red hat, “and for a negotiable fee I can take you.”

“To a place that may exist,” the suit, Daniels, remarked dubiously. “Forget it.”

“Forget it and forget all the wealth of Egypt,” the Hungarian commented almost warningly.

“Doc?” the blonde quipped as he looked to the Englishman.

The dark haired man frowned with a thoughtful look. “They say Seti was the wealthiest of the pharaohs and that all his treasure was hidden there,” he murmured, “but there has never been any proof of it.”

“I can take my offer to a more willing group,” the Hungarian commented sharply with a smirk.

“Now wait just a minute,” the cowboy said as he waved one hand at the man. “Let’s get a drink and talk about this.”

The Hungarian turned then to scan for prying ears and eyes and his beady gaze fell on Jess. She bowed her head then and reluctantly slipped through the crowds and disappeared out into the night. Hamunaptra, the lost City of the Dead, could it be real? The man was a snake, no doubt, and he could just be a clever con artist but she knew she couldn’t just let it go, no matter how small the odds were she had to, after years of waiting and hunting this was the first she had even heard mention of the city, she had to find out! Knowing the Americans wouldn’t be venturing off in the dead of the night she headed off to find her own abode for the night, pausing to scratch the ears of Anu as he finally joined her side.

* * *

Giza Port, always a busy part of the city, here the odour of promise hung heavy in the air today as the scents of imported and exported perfumes, soaps and spices enticed the noses of would be travellers and eager merchants. Every walk of life was here- children, men women, dogs, cats, cattle, goats, horses and donkeys. Carts, carriages, and pedestrians struggled to manoeuvre past each other and the market stalls between the yellow canopied warehouse buildings and the glittering river itself.

Jess looked up at the riverboat with a mixture of apprehension and awe, it seemed sturdy enough but she had never been one for travelling on water despite having done so more than once. The streets were packed as usual; even the bright afternoon sun couldn’t stop prosperity in the city. The skies were clear, a warm turquoise that used to appear pretty to her but was now just a promise of no mercy from the sun, well at least it also meant no storms to disturb their travel, not yet anyway. She looked out across the silvery waters of the Nile, there was life, far more valuable that any gold buried in the sands, the Nile was the real reason the country kept going, without water there was only desert and death. It was beautiful, she could still appreciate that, wide, clear and busy with boats and yachts of trade and pleasure, it hurt to look at after a while as the sun’s white rays were too bright on it.

She had followed the Americans here, shadowing them since the dawn knowing that they wouldn’t waste any time. She had been unsurprised to find they had decided to risk the Hungarian’s promises of a forgotten city of wealth and were now moving quickly with a purpose, determined to reach this fabled dormant domain of gold as soon as possible. Sadly, Cairo did not share their drive, there was only one riverboat going the direction they needed to go and that was now, just past midday, which had forced them to linger in the dusty city for a few frustrated, sweaty hours before they had to clamber on with everyone else.

“Tickets,” the crew member remarked wearily as the trio and their panting, unhappy Egyptologist finally reached the top of the gangway.

Three tickets came out easily but the man with the glasses, who Jess had learned was called Burns, suddenly found himself patting his pockets with confusion and a frown.

“Ticket?” the crewman made it a suspicious query as he gave the now flustering man a stern glance.

“Burns now is not the time,” the cowboy styled American grumbled as he frowned at his friend tiredly, “where the hell did you put it?”

Being forced to wait in the sticky, heavy heat with only cheap, warm alcohol to provide a brief relief had not helped the group any and their frustrations were finally starting to show.

“It was right here,” Burns retorted as he patted at the front pocket of his white shirt. “I couldn’t have lost it,” he stammered, “there’s no hole.”

‘No,’ Jess thought with a smug smile, ‘not lost.’ It had been a tricky theft and she could have avoided it, there were plenty of other people waiting around the docks to pilfer a ticket from but she had liked the challenge. 

The cowboy would have been the easiest to take from, his ticket had been shoved carelessly into the lower pocket of his jacket, easy pickings for anyone but Jess was determined to exercise her skills, undoubtedly she would need them in Hamunaptra. So she had played a very patient waiting game in a small, dingy bar, sitting in the shadows of a crowded, lopsided table, ignoring her companions there as she had watched subtly, hoping her chance would come before the Americans thought to depart. 

After half an hour in the bar Jess’ opportunity had arisen as the man known as Burns had given up his fashion sense and given into the heat, tugging off his blazer and leaving his shirt exposed. Of course his ticket had been at the front of his shirt, he wasn’t stupid, so Jess still had to wait until he had stood and headed to the bar. It was easy after that, she had orchestrated the crowds with a few nudges and sidesteps here and there until Burns had inevitably bumped into an oily scalped Frenchman who had had enough mosquito bites to suggest a temper that wouldn’t allow Burns’ mumbled apology to satisfy him. 

In the minor chaos that had followed with the defensive Henderson and gung-ho Daniels up and ready to meet the challenge before the Egyptologist, Dr. Chamberlain, had diffused the situation, Jess was able to ‘bump’ into Burns unnoticed. She had done so with the other gawkers and the Frenchman’s colleagues who were getting up close too and the ticket was gone. Burns had noticed something but dismissed it as an unpleasant nudge from the Frenchman.

Jess knew it was a risky move on her part, if the Americans didn’t have tickets they might not depart and it might all be for naught but she knew their ilk; they weren’t going to let a minor problem like this keep them from their gold. So let them work for their theft then just like she had to. She watched from behind them with a coy gaze partially concealed beneath a dusty black hat, too focused on the poor Burns to notice the piercing eyes of Beni.

The Hungarian studied the figure behind them curiously, certain the small, thin form looked a little familiar, and what was with that a glint of a smile beneath the hat? His frown deepened before he rolled his eyes as Daniels reached for a gun; it always seemed to be his answer to a problem. ‘Damn Americans,’ Beni thought scornfully, ‘they’re going to get me shot before we even get on this boat.’ He let out a nervous laugh as he stepped forward to his take his turn at neutralising what would undoubtedly be the first of many problems with the Yankees.

Henderson and Daniels were both yelling angrily at the crewman who was demanding they leave the queue.

“He’s got a ticket,” Daniels snapped, “just hold your horses!”

Jess’ smile widened as people behind them started complaining whilst the good Dr. Chamberlain muttered a few choice words under his breath as he struggled to balance his luggage.

‘If these guys can’t get onto a boat what chance do they have in the city of the dead?’ Jess pondered to herself sardonically.

“Could you hurry up already, make them swim if they don’t have tickets!”

Jess tensed at that voice, it sounded vaguely familiar. She glanced over her shoulder and down the crowded gangway trying to spy the caller.

“Yes make them swim!” an Englishman’s voice piped up as he waved an arm in the air.

Jess frowned as she spotted him, she definitely knew that voice. That Englishman was the reason she had been thrown in a cell, oh sure she had planned the whole thing but he hadn’t known that, reporting her for pocketing a watch of his when he was a no good thief himself. She looked to his companions, a young, bookish, brunette woman and a handsome man, neither of whom she recognised. What she missed was the bumbling warden lingering behind them, just out of sight behind the Englishman. 

“Look, my friends have a lot of coin,” Beni addressed the crewman quickly in a low voice as he clapped a hand on his right shoulder, “how about we pay you for two tickets for our inconvenience?”

“Now wait just a minute-” Henderson began a protest.

“Oh for heaven’s sake just do it!” Dr. Chamberlain snapped as a fly started buzzing a little too closely to his nose.

“You’ll get it all back, and much more,” Beni reminded them with a yellow toothed grin.

Jess shook her head as the trio reluctantly fumbled for their cash. ‘Money, how disappointing,’ she thought disparagingly. ‘So it’s guns or gold, how narrow minded.’

They compared their notes and coins before finally shoving a handful of it over to the crewman. “Let us on already,” Henderson growled at the man as he glared at him with his dark blue eyes.

The crewman accepted the coin with a nod, hiding the joy from his face as he stepped back and finally granted them access.

“Finally,” Daniels grumbled wearily.

Jess stepped up next, holding out her ticket and ignoring the look of scorn she got in return as the man puzzled over her attire and gender. Brown trousers, a cream shirt, brown leather belt, brown boots and a faded, long, mustard vest, and of course the ill-suited black hat that offered little disguise. She wasn’t trying to be in disguise, just a little more inconspicuous as an unescorted woman on a boat, better she was overlooked as a boy than noticed for that.

The crewman snatched her ticket off her before spitting to the right showing that he knew she was a female and was disgusted by it. Jess just rolled her amber-brown eyes at him before slinging her brown satchel up her right shoulder and continuing onto the boat.

“So how far is this place anyway?” Daniels grunted from a few feet up ahead.

“It is three days down the Nile, then two days by camel, Barat'm,” Beni answered calmly as he glanced about the deck curiously, his beady eyes taking in the wealthier looking travellers eagerly.

“All the money we're payin' you, there better be something under that sand,” Daniels retorted warningly with a glare. His already short fuse had reached its limitations after their problems boarding.

Beni read the threat in the man’s almost black-blue stare and knew he was a man quite likely to shoot someone who crossed him.

“Hamunaptra, Daniels,” the blonde Henderson calmed his friend as he clapped a hand on his left shoulder. “That's all you gotta keep telling yourself. Hamunaptra.”

“We're gonna find it, boys,” Burns chirped up with a small grin, his stress already forgotten now that they were onboard, “and we're gonna make history.”

“And get rich doin' it,” Henderson added confidently.

“Let’s get a drink first,” Daniels murmured moodily as he shrugged off Henderson’s hand.

Jess watched as they headed off to their quarters. The young woman didn’t bother with attempting to find quarters for herself, her ticket was stolen after all and the paths to get up on the boat were still packed so it would be hard to imagine any spare rooms on board. Weary, she settled for a nice spot on deck under the shade of an aged, yellowing umbrella, sitting on a wooden deckchair, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankles, head bowed and giving the illusion of a person inattentive and napping. They were all safely on board now, no need to worry about where to go next until the riverboat docked.

Then her dark adventure could begin. Let the Americans have the gold, she had something much more important to find in the dangerous city of the dead, something far more valuable.


	2. Chapter 2- A Starry Boat Ride

Henry Henderson looked out at the black waters of the Nile with a sceptical look, a deceptively beautiful river of stars; he knew anything could be hiding beneath those obsidian ripples; death could be lurking down in the deep unknown but then again, so could treasure. The American Frontier had been tamed going on eleven years now, the Wild West was dead and men like him were left lost, too rough for modern society and too adventurous to ever consider that giving up the wild plains and unconquered deserts for cities and suits was really the right choice. So, in a plight of desperation to escape succumbing to an early death from drink he had swapped one desert for another, hoping that on these ancient golden sands he might yet find freedom, adventure and riches. The West had failed him, it had failed them all and yet even now when he was many miles and days from it he still couldn’t forget his bittersweet love for that life. The stench of camels didn’t quite compare to the odour of cattle, and the scorching sun here brought only burns and death whilst at home it showed a little more mercy and had helped with the grass to feed the cattle.

The roguish blonde spat a mouthful of tobacco down over the railings carelessly, he didn’t see the ripple it caused or hear the soft splash over the chatter and music behind him and yet he felt it, that perfect mirage of the night sky ruined with one simple gesture. ‘It’s all a mirage at the moment,’ he thought moodily, ‘I’ll not believe in anything until the gold is actually in my hands. Hell even then there’s no guarantee,’ he thought bitterly, ‘anything can be taken from you these days, still, I’ll make damn sure if there really is treasure no one takes it from me unless it’s from my cold dead hands.’

“Hey Henderson we’re all ready for you!” Bernard ‘Bernie’ Burns called to his friend as he finished setting up their poker game.

“I say, could I possibly join you gentlemen?”

Henderson turned at the excited voice and gave a small smile at the gentleman; a well-dressed Englishman, there was a hint of poverty to him despite his best attempts to mimic his fellow Englishmen on the boat. His mustard coloured shirt was wrinkled enough to suggest a lot of wear and whilst the blue silk poking up from above the collar was evidence of the good quality of the shirt Henderson imagined it was a hand me down from a father or grandfather or indeed both. His off-white linen coat was another sign of his shortcomings, a few grey stains at the bottom, a loose brown button on the lower right pocket and a few threads at the cuff of the left sleeve. Henderson was quite willing to bet that this unfortunate man had undoubtedly been rejected by his peers on this boat which was why he was trying to find acquaintances with them, the uncultured Americans.

“Sure,” Burns was quick to answer, ignoring the shake of Daniels’ head. Bernard always was the friendliest of the three, sad thing was he was being sincere whilst Daniels was already looking at the Englishman to see if he could salvage a bad situation and make some quick cash. “What’s the name?”

“Jonathan Carnahan,” he retorted with a wide smile as he occupied a seat beside Burns and Daniels.

Dr. Chamberlain was swift to give the man his own look of disapproval from his vantage point of a table to their left. Sure he was technically in the Americans’ pay but even the good doctor was too English to be seen gambling, having fun and in a form of friendship with the Americans. Henderson didn’t take it personally, if the doctor wanted to stay as strictly an employee, so be it, so long as he helped in their quest for treasure the blonde didn’t care much. Daniels was more inclined to take offence, calling the Egyptologist a stuck up bastard, once to his face until Burns had quietened him down and make a quick apology on his behalf.

“Do you want a drink Mr. Carnahan?” Henderson queried as he stepped up to the green clothed table at last.

Jonathan turned up to him with a wide smile that the blonde found contagious. “I’d be delighted,” the Englishman retorted cheerfully.

“Burns?”

The quietest of the rambunctious trio shook his head with a small grin, he was already on his third glass whilst Daniels had just finished a fourth. It wasn’t that Burns disliked the drinking he just felt Henderson and Daniels almost had some sort of dependency on it, like it was difficult for them to find fun without it and that he could not relate to. Alright Prohibition had been ongoing three years now at home and that made getting and enjoying drink all the harder so it was nice to enjoy its seductive and hazardous pleasures with ease but they were on the Nile sailing for a mythical treasure, who the Hell really needed alcohol to make that better? Wasn’t it incredible enough? Even now he still couldn’t believe he was here.

“Daniels need I even ask you?” Henderson quipped mockingly.

“Don’t get cute Henderson,” Daniels was quick to chide as he lifted his empty glass and shook it pointedly.

“Doc?” Henderson gave a brown toothed smile at the unpleasant look the Egyptologist gave him in response. “Nah I didn’t think so.” He gave a low laugh before trudging off to the bar.

Once Henderson returned the poker game started amicably. They were mostly unaware of the young pair of eyes watching them from across the way with fascination. Jonathan and Henderson glimpsed the amber-brown eyes a few times but dismissed them as belonging to a lad probably eager to gamble with them but too poor, ignorant or shy to try and take part.

“Quit playin' with your glasses and cut the deck, would you Burns?” Daniels snapped impatiently as Burns plucked off his spectacles to clean them for the third time.

“Without my glasses I can't see the deck to cut it, now can I, Daniels?” Burns retorted sarcastically as he rubbed them clean with the corner of his jacket before placing them back on. “You’re just sore cause you’re losin’,” he added with a teasing smile.

Daniels bristled in his chair before giving a grunt and downing the remainder of his glass.

Henderson laughed. “And you’re just cocky cause you’re winnin’,” he commented to Burns.

Jonathan laughed along with the blonde earning an unpleasant indigo eyed glare from Daniels, which he promptly ignored. “So...Mr. Carnahan, what’s your business across the water anyway?” Daniels pried.

“Ah, well chaps you probably wouldn’t believe me,” Jonathan retorted as he puffed out his chest slightly and his bright cobalt eyes filled with a suggestive twinkle. “In fact I’m probably not even allowed to say,” he bragged.

Jess frowned, her seat had lost its advantages as the deck had become more crowded, people eager to enjoy the cool, dry night beneath the stars and close to the bars and she could no longer hear what the Americans were saying. Seeing the look on the Englishman’s face, Jonathan, she determined to move forward. She recalled her brief encounter with him before he had dramatically demanded her arrest and didn’t think he was really the type to say anything worth listening to and yet the passionate look in his eyes had her intrigued.

She moved to stand near a table to the right but saw Henderson’s eyes upon her. ‘Not so stupid,’ she thought with a prickle of irritation mixed with surprise as she manoeuvred herself on, round him, purposely positioning herself near the wooden wall at Henderson’s back, standing beside a couple of smokers.

“Alright, you win the next hand you keep your secrets,” Daniels said, “I win it and you tell us where you’re heading that’s so damn exciting.”

“And what if I win, or Burns, which is a hell of a lot more likely than you Daniels?” Henderson queried.

Daniels shrugged and frowned as his dark glittering gaze flickered over to his friend. “Well what do you want?” he questioned gruffly.

“Same as you,” Henderson answered brightly with a nod at Jonathan, “our friend’s fascinating destination.”

“Yeah I’ll play for that,” Burns commented eagerly as he shuffled the cards again, “so it better be good Jonathan.”

“It is,” Jonathan assured with a nod.

Jess rolled her eyes beneath the tilt of her hat, the man was clearly a liar and yet, despite her scepticism, just like the Americans she wanted to know what he had to say anyway. Unable to strain her neck enough to see the poker hands without looking a little too obvious she remained as she was, head tipped down, not watching but listening. There was some minor chatter from Henderson and Jonathan as they played whilst the more serious Daniels kept quiet, as did Burns who was taking his winning streak a little more seriously.

A curse from Daniels and the loud slamming of his hand on the table indicated an angry fold whilst Jonathan and Burns shuffled their notes into the pot.

“Full house, beats your two pair Jonathan,” Burns remarked happily as he revealed his hand.

“So where’s the mystery destination?” Daniels queried with a bored stare.

“Well gentlemen,” Jonathan said as banished his frowned and leaned into the table almost conspiratorially, “it’s Hamunaptra.”

Jess felt her blood turn cold as Henderson laughed, Daniels muttered another curse and leaned back in his seat and Burns frowned in disbelief. ‘No one knows of this place for years,’ Jess thought as she clenched her fists in anger, ‘no one and now two separate parties suddenly know exactly where it is and are going there on the same bloody boat. It can’t be true! It’s impossible! Something’s not right!’

“Funny,” Henderson said at last as he rubbed at the stubble on his lip with one finger, “we’re heading for the same place. Fancy yourself a treasure hunter then?”

Jonathan gave a wide smile, apparently more delighted at the coincidence than the rest of them were. “Well somewhat yes, my sister and I both, you see it’s in the blood, we come from a proud lineage of Egyptian explorers.”

“Really?” Daniels queried dryly.

Too caught up in the latest exaggeration from the Englishman, Jess heard the approaching footsteps too late. She looked up at the sound of the boots and that was her folly, a flash of those golden-brown eyes and Rick O’Connell recognised her immediately. She was ready to dismiss him until she saw recognition in his sea blue stare. His right hand reached out and flipped up her battered hat suddenly, flinging it off and to the deck.

“I knew it,” Rick remarked brightly with a smug smile as Jess’ golden brown hair tumbled down. “A thief and a woman, terrible combination,” he added with a scolding shake of his head.

Jess remained composed, though it took all her self-control not to grasp down desperately for that hat and show her surprise. Instead the young woman scowled up at him fiercely and snapped, “do I know you?”

He folded his arms and laughed at her. “Really?” he quipped sardonically. “Hmm well I suppose I do look better outside of a prison cell,” he added a little more darkly as he leaned down to her.

Jess arched an eyebrow at that, genuinely confused as she took in the American. His voice did sound familiar even if nothing else about him was recognisable. He cut a dashing figure, every inch the brave and handsome adventuring soldier, ready to cross the seas to foreign lands just to prove he could. He reminded her a little of Henderson, they were surely cut from the same cloth, too good looking, bold Americans undoubtedly here so they could later impress some pretty women by bragging about their exploits in the savage lands of Egypt.

“I don’t know you,” she said coldly.

Rick sighed. “No beard,” he informed her as he pointed to his smooth, golden chin with another grin, “no rope either but you missed that part. I just thought you’d like to know you left me to hang. Quick little thing when you want to be aren’t you?” He took a step into her, raising his right arm and planting his palm against the wooden wall beside her as if daring her to bolt again. “Not really anywhere to run on a boat though, is there?”

“O’Connell what are you doing?” Jonathan queried curiously as he finally noticed his friend. “Come and sit down!” He looked to the Americans and said, “he’s a partner of mine.”

“I’m busy at the moment Jonathan,” Rick retorted through a gritted smile, his gaze never leaving Jess. “I just want to know one thing,” he addressed her quietly, “how the hell did you get out of that cell so fast?”

Jess continued to stare up at him in puzzlement, that voice was definitely familiar. ‘Out of the cell...ah damn, American, he grabbed my shirt like a fool!’ She only just hid her shock from her face. The desperate man who had grabbed her from his cell had been a filthy, bushy, bedraggled man, this man before her didn’t even compare, he was comely, sophisticated and charming even as his warm blue eyes flared with a subdued anger.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jess retorted airily, “and I don’t think it’s very gentlemanly of you to upset my hat like that.”

Rick laughed before he could help himself, not that he was willing to show it but she surprised him as much he did her. For one thing he had not been expecting the elitist English accent she addressed him with. It was not quite as natural as Evelyn’s, almost as if she had forgotten it, and not so grating as Jonathan’s could be and there was perhaps an Irish taint to it too, he couldn’t tell for sure. It was a far cry from the thick, common Cairo soiled accent Rick had been expecting, some corruption of Egyptian with French or Italian maybe. He had been half-convinced to look at her that she was another urchin bastard born of a soldier’s liaison with a native, or a tourist’s ill-advised rendezvous with a native or maybe another foreigner’s bored wife. He supposed to look at her that the brown freckles on her cheeks and the copper hue to her skin might just be from the sun rather than heritage, certainly the hair was too fair for a native and the eyes, whilst odd, weren’t exactly exotic.

“I’m sorry,” Rick apologised sardonically, “does your hat need a tissue?”

Jess looked away sharply to hide the smile that bloomed before she could stop it.

“O’Connell come sit down already!” Jonathan snapped impatiently as he stood up to pry over Henderson at Rick. “Who are you talking to anyway?” he demanded nosily.

Rick looked to Jonathan in annoyance and Jess seized her chance to slip out under his arm and lose herself in the crowds. Rick swallowed down a curse before turning to Jonathan who sat back down with a smile. ‘It’s not like she has anywhere to go,’ Rick reminded himself.

“Sit down O’Connell,” Jonathan repeated, “we could use another good player.”

“I only gamble with my life, never my money,” Rick answered calmly as he surveyed the table, noting the clear winner.

“Never?” Daniels questioned as he looked up at Rick daringly. Daniels had yet to meet a man he couldn’t persuade into a gamble. “What if I were to wager, five hundred dollars says we get to Hamunaptra before you?”

Rick met the man’s cocky gaze calmly, his lips in a straight line as he resisted the urge to frown. His fellow American was looking at him dubiously, as if he doubted Rick even had that kind of cash to throw around. Daniels’ indigo stare was very serious as he ignored Henderson’s grin and raised his dark eyebrows questioningly at O’Connell.

“Who says we’re going to Hamunaptra?” Rick queried quietly.

“He does,” all three Americans answered swiftly as Burns pointed to Jonathan half-heartedly without looking at him whilst Daniels pointed at him directly across the table with a challenging glare as if daring Jonathan to deny it.

Jonathan kept deliberately focused on his cards as he tried to ignore the heated glower Rick gave him. “Oh really?” Rick queried sardonically before his stare returned to Daniels who was now giving him a small, crooked smile. “You’re on then,” he informed him confidently, flashing his own smile when he saw the surprise in Daniels’ eyes.

“What makes you so confident sir?” This query came from Dr. Chamberlain who had paused smoking his hookah pipe to glare up at Rick indignantly.

“What makes you?” Rick shot back as his gaze flickered over to the Egyptologist.

“We got us a man who’s actually been there,” it was Henderson who answered for the group.

Jonathan and Rick both looked startled at the news, prompting a smug smile from all three Americans. Not to be bested Jonathan suddenly blurted out, “I say, what a coincidence, why-” He winced when Rick shouldering him with his gunny sack suddenly cut him off. Realising his error Jonathan stammered on, “whose deal is it? Is it my deal?”

Rick sighed. “Goodnight gentlemen,” he murmured before walking on, his eyes searching the crowded deck for the lost but certainly not forgotten thief. If she was still on deck he couldn’t see her. So he headed on the other side of the deck at a quieter area away from the bar where Jonathan’s sister Evelyn was seated alone at a table staring out at the black river.

* * *

After her encounter with the formerly imprisoned American, O’Connell Jonathan had called him, Jess had headed below deck, taking up a brief residence in the lounge room there but her long hair gave her away too quickly as a woman and she grew tired of the stares for her unwomanly attire. After forking out a tongue at one gawking gentleman and wriggling her fingers on the end of her nose at another lady she knew it was time to go. 

So Jess slipped back onto the deck but remained in the shadows, tired now and too wary of Jonathan recognising her to return to the Americans. She contemplated thieving another hat but what was the point? Enough people on the boat knew she was a woman and whilst that was irritating due to the attention it was no huge loss. She would wait until they docked and then adapt if necessary to follow the Americans. She was hopeful though that they would be foolish enough to leave an easy trail for her to follow if it came to that. Of course she couldn’t follow too far behind lest they find what she was looking for first, worse, what if this other American O’Connell and his group found it?  
Deciding she needed a drink she slung her unbound hair over her shoulders and shuffled to the bar, she probably wouldn’t get served despite being over age but that wouldn’t be fun anyway. It would be much more challenging to snatch up a drink she fancied from an unsuspecting consumer.

It didn’t take long for Jess to steal a suitably delicious looking cocktail and carry it over to the railings of the boat. As she fiddled with the olive on the cocktail stick she looked out at the Nile with the same displeasure Henderson had gazed at it. There was deception, on a warm night the calm Nile invited the unwary to take a dip in its cool water little suspecting the predators lurking beneath in the darkness. Never mind how easy it was to forget the depth of the river when one couldn’t see its bottom, how easy it must be to tire in its never ending curves and be swallowed up in its moist embrace in a moment of careless exhaustion.

“Did you forget this?”

Jess turned at the sardonically worded question and a flood of curses raced through her. ‘God damn it!’ It was the blonde American, she knew his last name was Henderson but she had yet to overhear his first. All she had gotten from his pockets were coins.

He held out the tattered black hat in his right hand. So he had seen O’Connell knock it off her then, had he heard O’Connell’s accusations? She frowned slightly, no, O’Connell had been talking to her quietly and the deck had been noisy.

“Who’s he talking to?” Burns queried as he pocketed the last of his winnings.

Daniels followed his friend’s curious stare, taking in the brown trousers first, then the mustard vest top and finally the spill of messy, thin, golden-brown hair, which had him arching his bushy eyebrows slightly. “A woman I think,” he retorted mockingly. “They all do dress funny round here don’t they?”

Burns nodded in agreement, his gaze darting over to Dr. Chamberlain as he gave Daniels a suggestive smile. Daniels glanced over his shoulder, following Burns gaze and he let out a snigger before he could help himself. Dr. Chamberlain certainly did have a particular way of dressing; Daniels thought it was all too much- shirt, waistcoat, jacket, tie, scarf, monocle and a fez, who needed so many layers and accessories? Why a tie and a scarf? It just puzzled the American.

Dr. Chamberlain gave Daniels an unpleasant look before resuming reading his novel and puffing on that atrocious hookah pipe he kept trying to convince Henderson was better than tobacco. ‘Think of the treasure,’ Allen Chamberlain reminded himself calmly, ‘Hamunaptra if the Hungarian is to be believed, the find of the century. Well at least they had the sense not to pay the ruffian in full so he shouldn’t lead us to some forsaken hole at any rate. You can endure Daniels for Hamunaptra, you can endure anything for that Allen, your name will go down in history if it’s true!’

Jess clapped her hands against her hips lightly and shook her head with a faint smile. “Not mine but thanks,” she answered brightly as she glanced up at Henderson. He was attractive in a rough way she supposed, it was as if he might have been a debonair young soldier once but somewhere it had gone wrong and through a combination of apathy, age, wear and stress he had developed into a man who wasn’t instantly pleasing to the eye like O’Connell but rather needed a more detailed look before the attraction could be spied. He had deep groves in his cheeks suggesting more frowns than smiles of late, his teeth were stained from his tobacco chewing, his dark stubble was getting heavier at his lip, his eyes were sunken and slightly bloodshot, and his thick, golden hair was unruly, brushing the back of his neck in tangled waves.

“Really because I saw Mr. O’Connell knock it from your head,” Henderson informed her with a small smile.

Jess shrugged, feigning ignorance though she knew it was pointless. Before she could think of something to say all hell broke loose. She turned at first in interest and relief as she heard the cries of commotion but when gunfire erupted across the deck and the cries turned into screams of pain she filled with alarm. Her eyes darted about as she stayed rigid whilst everyone else moved either in a panic or in defence. Men in black robes moved through the crowds with a deadly purpose, some wielded scimitars, some carried knives, and some carried guns.

There was a loud boom as a minor explosion turned a large section to the right into a flaming chaos as men and women suddenly found themselves alight. Jess dodged to the right to avoid a man shrieking and running blindly as he waved his burning limbs violently before throwing himself over the railings.

“What the hell is going on?” Burns yelled as he tugged out his pair of Colt M1911s.

“We’re going to get killed!” Dr. Chamberlain shrieked dramatically as he slammed his book closed against his chest with his umbrella and fell to his knees in a panic.

“Nonsense,” Daniels scorned with an excited gleam in his eye as he surveyed the scene briskly. “Quick, we need some defence here!” he snapped as he moved to upturn some chairs against each other.

Jess let out a curse as a bullet whistled past her left side, dangerously close to her skull. She opened the satchel ever present on her right shoulder and plucked out her only weapon, a sickle. Ebony handle and sharpened bronze blade it had been a fine prize from some foolish French collector’s house and since coming into Jess’ position it had ceased being an ornament and been bloodied many times. Not that she had any real skill with it, hack and slash, it was one of the darker lessons living in Cario’s dusty streets had taught her, kill or be killed, fight or be a victim.

Henderson moved to help Daniels set up a barricade, which seconds later the three found themselves ducking behind as another minor explosion went off as some of the alcohol caught aflame and glass shattered everywhere.

Jess swallowed down a scream as three shards cut through her trouser leg and into the flesh just above her right ankle. Before she could even think about the pain she heard a yell to her left and turned just in time to avoid the scimitar. She darted back as the blade came down just in front of her and wasting no time she struck out with her own weapon.

Daniels’ indigo eyes went wide as he saw the sickle sink deep through the folds of black cloth and into the bend of the man’s arm, reaching down to the elbow. The woman yanked the blade out just as quickly as she sank it in with a savage look and swung up, catching the surprised man beneath his chin and drawing a small spray of blood. “Jee-sus,” Daniels remarked loudly before he turned as gunfire came his way.

Dr. Chamberlain shut his eyes tightly as he cowered behind the Americans at the sound of the gunfire muttering as many prayers as curses as he trembled and even whimpered when the bullets seemed to come close.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Henderson, Burns, and Daniels returned the gunfire with shouts of glee. The panic onboard only worsened as the horses came cantering past with whinnies of terror as their Egyptian keepers tried to guide them to decks. Some went of their volition whilst others reared in a panic and were swift to trample any who fell beneath their hoofs. Jess looked on in a silent horror as one poor buckskin stallion went up in flames and shot across the deck with unnerving speed turning into a deadly fireball, she witnessed at least four unfortunates caught up in its path before the poor creature finally tumbled to its death in the Nile.

BANG! BANG! BANG! Burns felled two of their sable cloaked attackers with ease and a delighted ‘whoop’. For a man who wore glasses he had an astonishingly accurate shot and barely wasted a bullet. He and Daniels both used two revolvers whilst Henderson jovially spun the barrel of his Colt Single Action Army until he was out of bullets and forced to duck and reload.

Caught in the crossfire, Jonathan stumbled through fire and a hail of bullets, letting out a yell as he was almost hit several times and stumbled over debris in the commotion. He paused to catch his breath and cast an unsavoury look at the excited trio who seemed to be shooting wildly at everything and anything that moved. “Americans,” he said loudly in irritation with a shake of his head as if the word was a curse. 

He let out a cry of terror when a man came charging at him, his clothes turned into robes of crimson and amber fire, a steely hook for a hand now out and pointing at Jonathan. He was frozen in alarm and saved from being gutted due to the flaming madman catching his foot on a broken chair.

Jess turned at the yell, catching the end of a rifle to her ribs as she did. She doubled over with a gasp of pain, turning frantically to push the rifle away before it went off. BANG! Another bullet narrowly missed. Her heart was pounding hard, there was a low ringing in her ears and she couldn’t think logically anymore. She was on an adrenaline rush and with every second more reason gave way to instinct as she simply just moved in an effort to survive.

The hook came down, slicing through Jonathan’s mustard shirt and cutting a shallow wound though to hear his howls of pain one would have thought it a mortal injury. The Englishman opted for hysterics over sense, wailing for his life rather than fighting for it.

Jess let out her own yell as a black boot to the chest sent her reeling back into chairs and upturned tables. She let out a groan as the breath rushed from her chest and she found herself looking up at two black holes of death.

BANG! The hooked man gave a shudder as Henderson’s bullet sank into his back before he fell over the railings with the impact.

BANG! BANG! The tattooed man towering over Jess let out a gasp of pain as he suddenly went rigid. Jess rolled just in time before he came slumping down thanks to Daniels’ two bullets. The young woman detangled her limbs from the broken wood, cursing at the few splinters she suffered as she tried to right herself.

The Americans weren’t showing the fear of anyone else on board, to them this was exciting, the start of the adventure they had been growing impatient for and at last a chance to shake off the dust and use their guns again.

Jonathan stumbled back slightly and looked to the Americans with a grateful grin. “I say good show!” he praised before he looked to the deck where his pith helmet had fallen in the commotion and picked it up. “And did I panic?” he quipped as he placed his helmet on confidently and then threw a small box up in the air daringly. “I think not!” he finished as he pocketed the box.

As if affronted by Jonathan’s lies the already bad situation immediately worsened as a stampede of horses came their way and another fiery explosion erupted across the deck. Jonathan wobbled with the impact and found himself slipping over the railings backwards with a wild scream.

Dr. Chamberlain moved first, pushing back against Daniels as he fled for the railings with a yell of panic. Daniels let out several loud, angry curses as he fumbled against the barricade as his arms caught against table legs and pieces of chairs and his fedora slipped down blocking his vision.

Burns stood and dragged Daniels back and up with him before they all turned in the chaos, seeking the only remaining part of the railings that wasn’t on fire. Dr. Chamberlain ungracefully shoved several of their own men out of the way before leaping over the railings, clutching his fez with one hand as he did. Daniels wondered bitingly how the idiot hoped to swim if he was holding his fez with one hand and his book and umbrella with the other.

Henderson raced after him, pausing suddenly to glance Jess’ way. The woman was just standing there; bloody sickle in one hand as she looked to the railings everyone was fighting to clamber over with unease. “Come on!” the blonde shouted at her with a wave.

Jess gave him a wide, nervous smile before shaking her head. “No thanks,” she called back with false cheer.

“Don’t be an idiot woman, this boat’s going down!” Henderson snapped.

There was a crackle followed by a loud bang and several screams as a horse tried and failed to jump through them, setting the debris between Jess and Henderson alight.   
Burns almost collided with his friend in an effort to get off. “Come on!” he yelled at the blonde as he pushed on his left shoulder with one hand. “Before the whole railing is on fire!”

Henderson squinted through the flames to see if the woman had moved and was astounded to see her standing in the same place, the flames almost licking at her boots. He pointed in her direction with one hand and a look of disbelief. “She won’t move!”

“Who cares?” Daniels snarled as he ran past him. “Whole damn ship’s going to blow and you’re worried about a stranger!” He gave his friend an incredulous look. “Get moving Henry!”

Burns followed Henderson’s gaze, rubbing the smoke stains off his glasses as he did. He frowned as he hesitated to move, it wasn’t right abandoning someone on a sinking ship but they couldn’t save anyone and she was spooked, people were like animals in that respect, once they were well and truly spooked there was no moving them.

Henderson took a step towards her, letting out a curse as the floor suddenly gave way beneath him; he was saved from the minor hole that appeared below by Burns yanking him back sharply. “Come on,” Burns ordered, “we can’t get to her.”

Daniels paused at the railings to glance back at his friends and let out a swear as he saw them still staring at that stupid woman. As if finally sensing her impending danger from the fire she finally moved, leaping over a small cluster of flames with a wince before running to the right to avoid a fallen man and then dodging to the left to evade the swing of a scimitar from a black robed foe. Yet when she neared him and the railings she froze up again.

“Jump!” Henderson snapped as he and Burns started to run in her direction and the railings, delayed by the crowds that shoved through them.

“No,” Jess murmured, “no...it’s...it’s okay.”

“Aw hell.” Daniels rolled his eyes, knowing Henderson well enough to know that he wasn’t heartless enough to leave a woman on a burning ship even if she was at the point of deserving it. He holstered his revolvers and moved to her.

Jess let out a scream when she was suddenly and clumsily plucked off the deck and thrown over a shoulder. Just as quickly she found herself flying, no, falling through the air looking up at the fiery boat in terror. “I can’t swim!”

Daniels didn’t hear those words as he followed straight after her with Henderson and Burns hot on his tail.

The water was colder than expected, a shock to some and a relief to others who had suffered some deadly burns, it was pitch black too and some floundered in a panicked confusion as they tried to guess where the surface was. For a moment Jess succumbed to the same bewildered panic that resulted in many around her taking unnecessary gasps under the water and ensuring a quick drowning. After what felt like hours she saw the twinkling orange and yellow of the fire and she moved in its direction.

The woman’s brothers had encouraged her to learn to swim, urging her to practice in a pond at the back of their property. Her mother had considered it unseemly but turned a blind eye to it until the incident. ‘NO!’ she snapped at herself. ‘Don’t think about it! Not now! Don’t be stupid! Remember what Richard said, kick, kick and keep kicking!’  
Up, up, was it even up? Was she chasing the flames or a reflection or something else? Just as she began to despair and her legs threatened to cramp her head broke the frothy surface.

The normally calm Nile was churning as if boiling with the amount of people and horses struggling to brave its depths. She choked on white froth several times as people battled over floating furniture and rubber rings, even pushing each other under the currents and punching each other. Her eyes widened when she realised why, an already deadly situation had worsened again. The Nile crocodiles had picked up on the sudden activity in their home and smelling blood they were beginning a frenzied feast.

Dr. Chamberlain let out a few appropriate yells of alarm before he splashed frantically for shore.

Jonathan swallowed down a nervous laugh as he saw the unmistakable ridges to his left and became very conscious of the fact that he was bleeding. He took a breath to calm himself and tried to move at a better pace, hoping the frantic splashes of the people to his right might draw the unwanted attention.

Jess’ head bobbed below the surface several times and she spluttered as her nostrils filled with water. She didn’t know how to float; hell she didn’t know how to swim! When she felt something brush against her side, large and rough and saw the pointed grey ridges, splashed an eerie white beneath the moonlight, she knew she had to move.

The woman floundered pathetically in the water, unable to tread, and unable to properly swim, not that she had the space for long strokes anyway as there were too many people crowded together. There was a small group of four people in front of her, a redheaded woman, a balding man and their two native servants, all arguing as they turned and twisted in the water in alarm. 

There was a low roar as the water seemed to rise up in a spontaneous fountain around the group. Jess saw jaws through the tumble of white water- wide, long, powerful, open jaws filled with sharp, deadly teeth. She flinched at the loud sound of the snap that followed and the spray of blood before she was almost engulfed by the wave caused by the crocodile submerging. The beast was gone and the redheaded woman with it as if she had never been there.

“CAROLINE! CAROLINE!” The balding man yelled as he moved through the inky river as if he could find her in the darkness whilst his frightened servants fled in a flurry of kicks and splashes.

Bump. Jess tensed against as her back hit off something. She was almost afraid to look, suddenly as conscious as Jonathan about the fact that she was bleeding. When no jaws of death clamped around her she turned, there was a door. A perfect, magnificent, floating door! She turned to scramble up it, arms wide around its edges as she heaved up like a clumsy seal.

“No you don’t! I’m not dying!” She heard the indignant shouts of a man before the hands grasped about her waist and tried to pull her back down.

She rolled to her back and dealt him a vicious kick. He reeled back into the water with a gasp of pain as blood immediately bloomed from his nose. When the water started rippling and churning again around him Jess knew what was going to happen. She threw herself back and up the door as a reptilian face emerged from the ebony depths, green eyes glinting with death as the almost grinning mouth parted.

The man howled out his horror and pain as those powerful jaws clamped down upon his right arm and dragged him down. The force sent the door bobbing back across the waters through screaming people, its passenger numb and oblivious to the crowds.

Four people went for the door at once, all trying to struggle onto it at the same time. Jess felt it sway beneath her and knew they would capsize it and send her tumbling back into the river. She searched desperately for the shore and saw people to the left and the right, both looking so far away. There was Jonathan running through the shallows for the safety of the sand on one side and on another Henderson, out, hat still on as he looked to the boat in frustration. Hadn’t he jumped after her? How had he made it already?  
Jess stood up, legs shaking, knowing it was a mad move and she had only seconds to carry it out. She needed the extra momentum, it might get her close enough, yet the splash could attract a lot of attention. To hell with it, these people were going to make her get wet again regardless. Jess bent her knees, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists to the pain, and then she jumped. Hard, fast and out with as much force as she could muster.

She hit the water with a loud, inept splash, landing near Beni who cursed to the heavens as he was freshly soaked. He grabbed the girl’s shirt collar in a moment of rage and shook her hard, unwittingly dragging her up from drowning. “You fool!” he cursed at her. “You mad fool! Why did you do that?!” He released her just as fast before kicking frantically, sending several fresh splashes of water into her face.

Jess spluttered and tumbled in the water trying to right herself but she was tired and dizzy and her head kept dipping below the surface too many times. She turned and glimpsed ridges again, this time a wide row of them all heading in her direction. The snout came out, ugly and yet beautiful in a way, and two black slits focused in on her. It went to propel itself forward, to snap at her in a quick and powerful movement but then the gunfire came.

BANG! BANG! The shots were wild, it was too dark to aim right and the shooters’ hands were slick with the water. BANG! BANG! One hit the leathery armour whilst another struck close to an eye. It had the desired effect, the beast turned in a moment of pain and fury, hitting Jess hard with its tail instead, sending her careening back to the shore.

Daniels and Burns didn’t know whose bullets had done the work. Both just shared a glimpse of surprise before they continued swimming for the shore. Burns hesitated again, they were almost in the shallows, the tips of feet could feel the ever changing sand beneath them, almost safe but not quite. The woman wasn’t swimming though, rather twisting and turning and gurgling like a fish with one fin. He dismissed it as hysteria, a lot of people in the river were suffering it, they had shot at the crocodile, the rest she would have to do.

Daniels bounded up out of the water inelegantly, pausing and turning back. He spied Jess and shook his head in despair. “KICK YOU DAFT WOMAN!” he yelled at her in a moment of rage. She was not going to drown or get eaten now meaning he had wasted his damn bullets! “KICK!”

Jess heard the words, Richard’s ever constant advice, ‘you never kick enough Jess, kick, kick!’ So she did even though it made her ankle burn with the strain and her muscles cry out in pain, she kicked.

Burns finally bounded out too, looking down at his damp clothes despairingly. He plucked off his hat and emptied it off water with a murmured curse. Pointless, his whole outfit was ruined, and yet he put the still soaked hat back on anyway.

Beni staggered out triumphantly, looking to the horses Henderson had thought to grab with a satisfied grin before he turned to face the opposite side of the river. O’Connell, Jonathan, Evelyn and the prison warden stood there trying to ring out their own clothes. Only Evelyn still looked good, her white nightdress tight around her enviable curves and more than a little translucent with the water. It was a fact not lost on Henderson or Daniels who had both got a generous look at the beautiful brunette when in the water. Even now Daniels glanced across the river wondering if she was close enough to see her more womanly aspects.

“Hey O’Connell!” Beni shrieked across the river. “Looks to me like we got all the horses!”

“Hey Beni! Looks to me like you’re on the wrong side of the river!” O’Connell roared back.

Beni looked about him and let out several curses in Egyptian and Hungarian as Jess finally staggered to the shore. Jess looked to him warily, so the snake knew O’Connell too was that the coincidence explained? Two guides to Hamunaptra, how could these two polar opposites both be connected to the city of the dead? ‘The wrong side of the river,’ she thought numbly, ‘I swam to the wrong bloody side.’ She cast a wary look across the river, frowning at the man standing with O’Connell, Jonathan and a woman, it was hard to make him out in the darkness but she was so certain she recognised that portly form.

Her satchel and sickle were gone, all that was left were the clothes on her back and a few trinkets kept in a hidden pocket inside her mustard vest, including one stolen from Daniels. She coughed up another mouthful of water before hugging her mustard top close but not before Beni glimpsed her all too see-through shirt.

She gave the Hungarian an ugly look when she caught him gawking, prompting a frown out of him as he recognised her as the woman who had almost gotten him killed in the river. “What the hell were you doing on a river when you can’t swim?” he demanded angrily.

“Well that would be the point of the boat,” she answered dryly as she rung out her hair, “so I don’t have to swim.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are more than a few retelling Mummy fics out there already but I just couldn't resist! I feel the Americans have a lot of character potential and deserve some love so the story is told more from their side of things with several new twists and plots courtsey of my OC Jess, Imhotep is the least of their problems in this story!  
> As always all reviews are appreciated!


End file.
